


First, Last, Always

by Sol1056



Series: This Intersection Time [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mid-Canon, Side Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 06:14:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13675947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sol1056/pseuds/Sol1056
Summary: Keith's half-sleep instincts hit every one of Shiro's buttons, but Keith awake and taking over is even better. Now if only Keith didn't also insist on actual conversations mid-sex. Side-story toThe Uncertain Hour, mid-ch47; can be read as standalone.





	First, Last, Always

**Author's Note:**

> this is for all you folks who commented and DM'd me about there being a scene missing, according to you. okay, fine, you're right. enjoy, you wicked readers who insist on leading me astray. <3

Shiro crawled out of dreams to find himself on his side, facing the room's complete darkness. Keith lay behind him, one arm draped over Shiro's hip, face pressed against Shiro's neck. Shiro felt for the panel over his head. He tapped it awake and raised his head, squinting at the soft illumination. They'd slept for seven varga. Shiro rubbed his eyes and set the alarm to go off in four varga.

He was awake enough to do something about the ripped undersuit; it'd twisted around him as he slept. Shiro slipped from Keith's grasp and sat up. Judging from Keith's breathing, he was deep asleep. Shiro got a bit tangled trying to get the arms off, and ended up bringing the light up to its dimmest setting. He tossed the remains of the suit on the floor, lifting the blanket as Keith—eyes closed, arms somewhat floppy with sleep—registered his absence.

Whatever Keith meant to say was more of a mumble, and the sound died down once Shiro slid back into his original position. Keith half-snorted into the pillow, then slung a leg over Shiro's thigh, followed by an arm around Shiro's chest. Keith's claws came out long enough to scratch once. Shiro waited, but Keith made no other move nor sound.

The lights remained on, barely enough to outline the room, not enough to bother Shiro. He left them, not inclined to go right back to sleep. He lay with his mind open, allowing the exchange between himself and Black.

 _Safe, now._ Black's contentment filled Shiro's mind. _Be still._

Shiro smiled, rubbed his face against the pillow, and snuggled up closer to Keith's warmth behind him. With Black's pleased rumbling vibrating in Shiro's chest, Shiro let drowsiness overtake him.

When he woke again, he snapped into awareness so sharply that he held still, listening for an alarm, a cry, something to explain the tension. He was about to raise his head to check the clock, when Keith moved behind him.

A small, subtle move, clumsy with sleep, but instinctive enough. Keith was hard, and his cock was pressed against Shiro's ass. His leg was still over Shiro, though it'd hiked up Shiro's leg at some point. Keith's hips rocked again, stronger. Shiro's own cock tightened in response. Keith's movement gentled, to Shiro's supreme disappointment—and when Keith thrust again, his cock slipped downwards, instead, pressing into the crevice of Shiro's ass.

Shiro clapped a hand over his mouth. He had no idea of the etiquette, and for some sleep-addled reason, was certain there had to be rules. Keith liked to kiss for nearly hours, if Shiro let him; Keith had also proven to be as enthusiastic about giving head as getting it, to Shiro's immense pleasure. But this was a step further. The closest they'd come was the first time Shiro had gone down on Keith, and since then, they'd not really had the time for more than kisses and handjobs.

Keith continued to move, an agonizing skitter of his dry cock along Shiro's flesh. Shiro swallowed the moan and grabbed hold of his own cock, pressing hard at the base to keep himself under control. Was there an issue of consent if the person making the moves was asleep? Because Shiro consented, no doubt about that; his entire body was consenting so strongly he nearly ached from the effort. How could he wake Keith without accidentally making Keith stop?

He got an answer when Keith's hand slid over Shiro's chest, a single claw plucking at Shiro's nipple. Not quite a scratch, more like a keen pressure, and Shiro didn't manage to hold back the moan. Keith's leg tightened around Shiro's hip, and fingers—thankfully unclawed—dug into Shiro's chest. Keith thrust again, and the tip of his cock caught just enough that Shiro almost pushed back against the sensation.

Keith mumbled something against Shiro's back, and sleep-buried memories clicked in Shiro's head. Not dry; that was reportedly painful, and possibly dangerous for reasons he couldn't quite recall. He'd done his research as a college student with opportunities for the first time in his life, but he'd never really felt the inclination. A few casual dates, making out a few times, and twice, a hand-job. Anything more had felt like too much effort, for so little purpose.

Besides, he'd had a scholarship to maintain, a commanding officer to impress, and no interest in something that might tie him to earth when he only wanted to fly. He'd still read up on what to do, just in case the right time came. It never had, and he hadn't particularly regretted the lack.

He was suddenly quite certain his days of letting the moment go by were truly over. He wanted Keith's touch on him and in him with a longing so consuming he could feel it in his bones. Now he just had to figure out how to say that without begging—and then Keith thrust again, harder, and Shiro threw aside his self-consciousness. He was damn well ready to beg.

His mind—acute as always—prodded him again. One step at a time. Shiro rolled onto his stomach, feeling under the bed for his box that made do as a bedside drawer: his tablet, his gloves, an old mechanic's kit, oil for his prosthetic. His eager fingers found the tube of silicon-based liquid and pulled it out; it had been the first thing he'd tried for his arm. Other objects fell as well, clattering on the floor.

"Shiro?" Keith muttered, fingers catching at Shiro's arm as he rolled back into place and pressed the tube into Keith's hand. "What?"

"Use that," Shiro whispered, and winced at the needy note in his voice.

"What—" Keith's hand was gone, the tube with it. From the movement against Shiro's back, Keith was trying to figure out where he was, or what he'd been given.

Shiro frowned, unwilling to let Keith get too distracted. He pushed his hips backwards, catching Keith's cock along his ass. Keith's answering groan had a shocked, stuttering quality, but he shoved back, hard.

"Wait." Shiro didn't want to wait, but neither did he want his first time to put him in the healing pod. "Use that, start with a finger… if you can do it without claws—"

"Hunh?" Keith's leg slid off of Shiro, and there was a moment of quiet.

Shiro didn't exhale until he felt lips against his back, a reassurance. The tube's top snap nearly startled Shiro out of his skin. A squirting sound.

Keith muttered under his breath, then louder: "Lights, low."

The room's lighting brightened an increment, and Keith shoved back the blanket. The cool air hit Shiro's skin. He felt exposed, awkward with his prosthetic, the scars across his ribs and back, and the way his hand continued to cradle his cock, somewhere between protective and controlling.

"Like this?" Keith murmured, rising up behind Shiro, maybe to see. His finger landed on Shiro's tailbone, a sloppy slickness trailing down Shiro's ass to the right spot. He pressed lightly. "I have no idea what I'm doing, Shiro—"

Shiro closed his eyes, tight. He could manage words to explain, he was sure, but that would require making Keith stop circling, pressing. Keith pressed in a fingertip—not a claw, to Shiro's relief—and Shiro's breath caught with the sensation.

"All I know is I want this more than anything." Keith slid up closer against Shiro, and his finger pressed in further, withdrew, and pressed in again. "Like this? Is this good?"

Shiro meant to say yes, but what came out was a moan, half-muffled by the pillow. His hips moved instinctively, pushing against Keith's finger. Everything narrowed down to the hint of a sting from the pressure, the cool gel, and the sharp pleasure as Keith buried his finger in Shiro's ass.

"Oh," Keith said, less surprised, more speculative. He withdrew the finger, and Shiro nearly gasped at the loss. Another snap of the bottle, and the finger returned, back to the slow, careful movement.

One hand on his cock, the other half-under him, and Shiro couldn't quite get the leverage to rock against Keith's hand. He tried, anyway, startled when Keith laid a hand on Shiro's ass, holding him still. Shiro raised his head, but Keith wasn't looking at him; Keith was watching his hand move, and that felt far more erotic than it should have, all things considered.

"Be still," Keith muttered. "I'm doing this."

The words prompted Shiro's mind to skitter back to Black's words, and he almost choked on a laugh at the bizarre parallel—and then Keith shoved a finger back into him. Shiro collapsed onto the pillow, groaning. He canted his hips, wanting more, faster, anything, but Keith held Shiro in place.

And then suddenly Keith rose on his knees—finger still buried deep—and climbed over Shiro's legs to kick them apart wider and settle between them. Keith twisted his hand, as if testing, and Shiro cried out, cock convulsing as his back arched.

"Oh." Keith's tone was definitely satisfied. His hand slid across the small of Shiro's back, and pushed between Shiro and the bed. He caught hold, and yanked upwards.

Shiro nearly choked, caught off-guard by the rare show of Keith's true strength. If he did make a sound, it was mostly to the pillow, though. He'd ended up with his face and shoulders down and his ass raised. Keith kissed one ass-cheek, followed by a soft bite, and his fingers continued to push, pull, push. Shiro's toes curled in the bedding.

"You like this," Keith said, but not like a question. Nor mocking. Maybe amazed, a little, and attentive in a way that had some distant non-addled part of Shiro's brain faintly worried. "This is so… I never knew it'd be..." He withdrew his finger.

Shiro meant to respond, but the emptiness left him whining deep in his throat. Keith's fingers returned, and this time, he didn't hesitate. He pushed in fast, pulled out, and shoved in again.

"Keith, oh, god—" Shiro's back arched, his head came up, and there was no hiding the desperate moan. Polite kisses to end casual dates, and he'd never looked back, knowing whatever spark he sought wasn't with them. He'd found it with Keith. For all that sounded like a lofty ideal, the desire was simple. He wanted to be _fucked_ , he wanted to be fucked _hard_ , and he wanted Keith to be the one doing it. Forever, yes, but right then, definitely.

Keith's hand stopped, then he rose up on his knees. He moved Shiro into position with another show of casual strength. Shiro struggled to get a hand out from under him, reaching for his own cock. Keith caught Shiro's hand, bending over him to place Shiro's palm flat against the bed. "Not yet."

"Keith—" Shiro panted, steadying himself. But there was no movement from Keith, and Shiro couldn't hold back. He couldn't move with Keith's hand holding him still, but he could talk. And he wasn't above begging. "Keith, do it, _please_ , give it to me, _please_ —"

Keith's claws dug into Shiro's hip, hard enough to make Shiro stutter into silence. Something much larger than a finger rubbed along the crevice of Shiro's ass. It stopped at the right spot. There was a moment of fumbling, then the cockhead was pushing in.

The burn was incredible. Shiro tensed, instinctively wanting to pull away, but Keith held him in place, merciless. All sensation focused on that ring of muscles. Keith grunted, concentrating. Shiro couldn't swallow the whimper in time as his body gave way. Keith continued the inexorable push, all the way, until his hips were flush against Shiro's.

Shiro lowered his head, chest heaving. He'd been military; he'd heard the jokes about filling someone up. Even the few times he'd experimented with his own finger hadn't given him an inkling of the true sensation. He was filled, he was pinned in place, and he wanted more.

"Move, please," Shiro said, realizing too late that could be taken wrong. "Keith—"

Keith's fingertips pressed into Shiro's skin, as Keith rolled his hips, an experimental sort of move. His cock shifted in Shiro's ass, spiking the pleasure with a sting of unexpected stretch. Shiro instinctively clenched, surprised to find that eased the worst of it—and caused Keith to make an agonized sound somewhere between moan and growl. Keith caught his breath, spread his legs a bit more, and forced Shiro's knees wider apart. 

Shiro was going to lose it if Keith didn't do something, soon. "Come on, _fuck_ me, please!" Shiro was about to reach for his own cock again, when Keith pulled out. Maybe halfway, but the combination of the dragging sensation and the cool gel dripping from his ass made Shiro keen in the back of his throat.

Then Keith thrust. _Hard._

Keith groaned, a full-throated pleasure that echoed in Shiro's chest, pooled in his belly, and vibrated in his ass, tantalizing. Keith pulled out again, far too slow, and called for the lights to come up another notch. Shiro couldn't quite manage a question, but he could twist his head to look over his shoulder.

Keith wasn't looking at him. Keith was wide-eyed, face slack from pleasure, watching his cock slide in and out of Shiro's ass. That alone almost did Shiro in. And then Keith glanced up, a tiny smile curling the corner of his mouth. He jerked Shiro backwards at the same time he rocked his hips forward.

The move knocked Shiro's breath from him. He shook all over, his hips the only immobile part of him, and that entirely thanks to Keith holding Shiro firmly impaled. Keith rolled his hips. Shiro's arms gave way and he dug his fingers in the sheets, holding on. He couldn't seem to breathe around the intense pressure, the strange and amazing sensation of Keith's cock filling him utterly.

Keith withdrew almost all the way. He held that position, his breathing a desperate keen, as if he held onto any control by the thinnest of margins. Shiro grunted, frustrated. Maybe teasing Keith—their first time together—might not have been such a good idea. Shiro was ready to haul back, grab Keith, and yank him forward, if that's what it took.

"Shiro," Keith gasped, "like this? This is good?"

"Yes, but—" Shiro bit back the complaint. It was Keith's first time, too. Shiro was reduced to bracing his upper body, arching his back, trying anything to get Keith to move. "Come on, move. Don't tease me like this, baby—"

Amazingly, Keith remained still, though his cock twitched distinctly. "I'm not teasing you," Keith said, one hand running up Shiro's spine in lazy circles and back down again. "Just—I'm not sure—" His voice cracked, and his fingers trembled against Shiro's hips. "How do I make it good for you?"

" _Fuck_ me," Shiro demanded, too relieved that was the issue. For a moment he'd been terrified Keith found the whole thing too awkward, or worse, boring. "Don't make me wait, baby," Shiro gasped, and got one hand out to reach behind him for Keith. He never made contact, though he tried. "Come on, I _need_ you, give it to me _hard_ —"

And just like that, Keith broke, crying out as he slammed into Shiro so fast their flesh slapped. Keith rocked Shiro forward as he withdrew, and before Shiro could get his balance, he was jerked back again. Keith's cock slammed deep, and Shiro moaned, overwhelmed. Over and over, until the burn faded in the slide of Keith's cock quickening into a brutal pace.

Shiro swayed with the pressure of Keith's hands, falling into the rhythm. Keith's cock brushed something deep within, prompting another cry from Shiro. Despite moving so fast, Keith heard the sound, and shifted them both a fraction, until his cock hit that spot again. Shiro choked on another cry, and Keith held that position, slamming into it, his low growls somewhere between euphoric and primal. His claws dug into Shiro's skin, and the pain tripled the pleasure.

There was no holding back. Shiro abandoned himself to the pleasure, eyes squeezed tight as he tensed. His own cock ached, slapping his belly with every punishing drive. His mouth kept moving, spilling everything: it was so good, so deep, he wanted it so much, he needed it, so full, so complete—and in between that litany, another one. Begging Keith to fuck him, never stop, so good, so huge, right there, right there, he was going to come, he wanted Keith to come, he wanted to feel and hear Keith—

And then Keith jerked himself completely free, leaving Shiro gasping, his ass convulsing around the sudden emptiness. He barely had time to register, let alone react, and suddenly he was flat on his back. Keith caught Shiro's legs over his shoulder, raised up Shiro's ass, and drove back in.

The move knocked the wind right out of Shiro. Bent nearly in half, Shiro was pinned down. Not a place he'd ever thought he'd willingly be, but then Keith shifted, and Keith's cock slammed into that one spot that sent pleasure burning down every nerve. Shiro braced his hands against the wall over his head, desperate for leverage, coherent thought gone.

Keith filled the absence, catching Shiro's hand and guiding it to Shiro's cock. It was all the signal Shiro needed, and he pulled desperately at his cock, trying to time the movement with each slam of Keith's hips.

"This is amazing," Keith panted. "I had no idea, your ass is just—you feel so good—"

"Fuck me," Shiro burst out, except he said it more in dismay than as an order, though Keith took it as one. Shiro was already coming.

He'd wanted it to go on longer, but he couldn't fight it. He gripped his cock, hard, as it pulsed in his hand. Keith's cock filled his ass, and the last thing Shiro saw was Keith's face: naked pleasure, and a kind of awe. Shiro's toes curled, his belly tensed, and his vision went white as he came.

Long trails of wet splashed and draped across Shiro's chest, and Keith continued to thrust. Faster, jolting Shiro's breath with each drive. Keith inhaled sharply, shock becoming a grimace of pleasure. He drove into Shiro until his balls slapped Shiro's ass, and stayed, hips pulsing. Keith's exhale was open-mouth panting. His face went slack, and still he remained seated deep, pushing as if he could reach just a little further.

Heat filled Shiro's ass, and his cock twitched, an echo of pleasure. The single intense point spread, somehow, and Keith's cock seemed to fill every crevice, piercing Shiro deep into his chest. He braced himself for Keith to pull out, but Keith rose up, bending Shiro's hips upwards until Keith could lean over Shiro. Somehow, Shiro got one arm free to hook Keith behind the neck and pull him down.

A slow, soft kiss, more licking at Keith's lips than delving into his mouth. When Shiro's eyes drifted open, he was surprised to see Keith's eyes fully open. For a moment Shiro was aware how he must look, how he must've sounded, but the worry flitted away against Keith's obvious bliss.

"Mmm," Shiro said, as sensations made themselves known. His turn to test: he bore down hard, startled to realize Keith's cock was only somewhat soft. Shiro clenched again. There was noticeably less give, that time. He rubbed his thumb across the back of Keith's neck. "You okay?"

Keith's smile was answer enough, and he dropped his head onto Shiro's shoulder. His words were muffled against Shiro's skin, but clear enough. "Are _you_ okay? I just went with it, but you must be sore."

Shiro considered the messages from his body. He felt heavy-limbed, but that wasn't much of an issue; Keith had more than demonstrated his ability to move Shiro as he wanted, a fact that had Shiro's cock stiffening. Not quite recovered, but the interest was there. Shiro shook his head, and dragged Keith close for another wet open-mouthed kiss.

For once, Keith didn't turn it into a marathon kissing session. Instead, he broke the kiss to suck on Shiro's lower lip, and let go with a soft pop. He sat up, letting Shiro's legs down, and sat on his heels as he yanked Shiro's hips onto his lap. He was fully hard again. Shiro couldn't swallow his reaction, somewhere between a groan at the continued stretch, and a whimper at the chance for two blistering orgasms in one night.

Keith ran his hands up Shiro's inner thighs, and Shiro's legs jerked at the ticklish sensation—and then his cock did the same. Keith had taken it in hand, petting and pulling until it hardened against his palm. Shiro planted his heels against the bed and arched his back. He couldn't manage a huge range of movement, and maybe he'd regret trying for twice when he still wasn't sure what it'd be like after once. He'd worry about that later.

What bothered him—in a warning kind of way, mostly—was the look on Keith's face. Shiro stilled, bringing his weight down. His gasp became a contented sigh as Keith settled himself again, balls against Shiro's ass. Shiro couldn't hide the grin.

"What," Keith said, and ran his fingers through the drying mess on Shiro's stomach.

"You know the expression, 'thoroughly fucked'?" Shiro's soft laugh became a groan as Keith flicked his nipples with a claw, then pinched just enough to make Shiro jolt with the sensation. "Now I get it. It's the only way."

Keith paused, a flash uncertainty showing in the tilt of his brows. His question was soft, and he didn't quite look Shiro in the eyes. "You've had it some other way?"

"No," Shiro answered, because it was the truth, and even if it weren't, in a way, it still would've been. He didn't spare much thought on it, only a passing realization he couldn't even remember anyone else. "Never. I'd decided to wait until it meant something. And you mean everything."

There was silence, while Keith digested that. His hands trailed down Shiro's stomach, down Shiro's cock, to run fingers through the short hairs around Shiro's balls. "Some of the Blades tell me the secret about bonding is that you'll never get it perfect." He frowned, but when he glanced at Shiro from under his lashes, there was a teasing glint in his eyes. "Which means you have to keep doing it, to make sure."

"Oh, really," Shiro said, amused. He had a feeling where this was going.

He raised his head just enough to see his cock, stiff against his belly. Keith caught his legs under the knees, and rose up, carrying Shiro's ass with him. It meant being bent almost double, but at least Shiro could catch hold of Keith's elbows, just enough leverage to twist his ass side-to-side. Keith gasped, eyes nearly rolling back in his head. Shiro grinned.

Keith caught the look, and frowned. "What?"

"Are you going to fuck me again, or just bend me in half?"

"I don't know." Keith hefted Shiro's legs higher, and ran his tongue up Shiro's knee. "Are you going to beg?"

Shiro groaned and covered his face with a hand. After a moment, he let his hand drop. Keith still watched him, carefully, and the odd expression prompted Shiro to ask, "Did you like that?"

Keith bit Shiro's knee lightly, lips curving in a smile. He kissed the spot he'd bitten, as he withdrew. Only a fraction, followed by an equally slow push back in. And again, and again.

"Keith," Shiro said, half-complaining.

Keith settled back in, pressed close. "Did you… want to do this to me, too?"

Shiro glanced at the dim ceiling. Maybe he should start begging. He certainly couldn't take much more when his body was preparing itself for another mind-blowing round. What was it with Keith and having coherent conversations when Shiro was busy trying to remember his own name?

"It's okay if you don't," Keith whispered.

"I fully intend to fuck you if you'll let me, and if you like it, I'll do it again," Shiro said. "But having you inside me… I've wanted this. I've needed this. If you do, too…"

"Yeah." Keith rocked back, almost fully withdrawing, looking almost smug when Shiro's moan turned into a gasp. Keith pulled gently, almost bouncing, his cockhead tugging. Shiro's muscles were still tight enough to resist, and Shiro canted his hips up, chasing the sensation. Keith kissed Shiro's knee again, and smiled. "Tell me how you want it."

Shiro was happy to oblige, in great detail.


End file.
